


Lumberjack

by ide_cyan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Amputation, Body Horror, Camping, Dendrophilia, Extreme Body Modification, Horror, Other, Prostate Milking, Tree rape, Tree-fucking, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 02:49:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17133626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ide_cyan/pseuds/ide_cyan
Summary: Don't fuck with the woods, or the woods will fuck back.Roger thought it would be harmless fun to stick his dick into into the dead tree, but he had no idea what he was in for when it got stuck.





	Lumberjack

He was too old to have been so stupid, he thought with his dick in the knot of the dead tree, but he'd stuck his dick in weirder objects when he was younger, and he'd lived this long, hadn't he?

He thought it'd be funny to live up to his name. Why had his parents, last name Wood, decided to name him Roger in the first place?

Fuck. This was so fucking stupid.

There was a sliver of wood digging into his skin, like a sharp barb, which had caught onto his dick after he'd pushed halfway in and now he was worried he'd slice himself open if he pulled out, so here he was, legs akimbo, dick stuck in the wood of an old dead tree, after he'd got drunk on a night out camping, and it was going to be a story he'd never live down if he had to shout for help from his buddies, assuming they hadn't all passed out by the campfire yet.

He was still limp when he'd put it in, and maybe he could fit his finger next to his dick, push the piece of wood aside or break it off. His damn sweatpants were around his ankles because he'd had to pull them down in order to line up with the hole.

He wiggled his finger in, felt around, there it was—

Oh fuck the fucking thing had snapped off and driven straight into his dick, sending a jolt along his nerves. And suddenly he'd got _hard._ Filling out the hole right when he'd jerked involuntarily and pushed the rest of the way in. Now his dick was completely stuck. He'd definitely rip himself a brand new hole if he tried to pull out. Fuck. How the in the motherfucking world was he supposed to get out?

"Help!" he said, too quietly, with an embarrassed laugh.

His hand was jammed along the side of his dick. He'd got his finger stuck in the hole, too. 

So there he was, dick in hand, like an idiot. Stuck in a tree.

He tried wiggling. Ouch. That hurt, but the sliver of wood had some give to it. If he could just get limp again he might pull out.

He tried to think of unsexy things, but man, he was hard, and he'd been stupid horny all night with nobody to fuck, from listening to his buddies' boasts about their recent lays.

So he curled his loose fingers around his balls and tried to jerk off, but it was tough. The stupid prick of wood kept jabbing at him.

Well, he had one option left. He didn't like the guys knowing he enjoyed this, but it was the fastest way he knew he could get his rocks off.

He could stick a finger in his ass. 

He reached down with his free hand, and reaching was tough, because he was so close to the damn tree, but at least his knees were parted and his underwear was down. He'd need so much hand sanitizer after this!

He reached, and got a finger in, and pushed.

Damn, the sweet spot worked like magic. 

His prostate responded to the fingering, and he jabbed himself in the ass while the splinter jabbed him in the dick, and humped the old dead tree like an idiot.

Was he bleeding? God, there was something warm and wet on his skin inside the hole now. 

He squeezed his balls and kept fingerbanging himself, thinking about that scene in _The Last Unicorn_ where the hapless wizard got tied to a tree that wanted to fuck him. That tree had had massive tits. He'd never told anyone the embarrassing anecdote about his youthful self-discovery over a damn cartoon, but he'd jerked off to that tree.

Thinking of those big old honkers, he finally pushed himself over the edge, and with one more push, he was coming in the dead tree. Roger Wood, living shamefully down to his name.

Panting, he rested his forehead on his raised arm. He hadn't even realized he'd taken his finger out of his ass. It was weird that he didn't smell anything.

There wasn't much light, and he'd left his cell phone in his inaccessible pants back pocket, but his eyes had adapted to the dark when he looked at his hand.

FUCK.

His middle finger had gone.

There wasn't even a stump, or a wound, or anything. His whole finger was missing.

Bewildered, he tried to take a step back, but oh snap, something had closed around the base of his dick and pulled him back. He got his other hand free, though. But his dick was still stuck in the tree, and now there was something pulling him back in, into the hole in the wood, into the wet spot right where he'd just spurted, and he became more pressed about the situation of his dick than his missing finger.

He didn't feel the splinter anymore, on the upside.

So he tried to pull.

Slowly, because he was still hard and the wood chafed, he pulled his hips back.

And something pulled him right back in.

He tried to pull out again.

And again, he was jerked back in, like something was hooked around his dick and sprang back like an elastic when he pulled it taut.

And fuck, he was still hard, and still drunk, and this was the only fuck he'd had in months.

He fucked back.

Hugging the dead tree's bark, which was covered in moss around the other side of the trunk. Banging the hole in the knot, while his fingers dug into that moss.

He humped the hole and came again with a cry.

A finger curled around underneath his balls.

What the hell?

He took his hand off the tree to feel down there and would have been knocked back on his ass if he'd been able to pull free.

Next to his missing middle finger was another empty space.

His index had gone.

Shit, oh fuck, now was the time to panic, right?

"Guys? GUYS?!" Roger shouted.

There was no answer. They must all be passed out drunk.

He opened his mouth again when he felt the disembodied finger twiddling his balls. Oh fuck.

Now the dead tree was...

Fuck.

The dead fucking tree was fucking him again and he couldn't believe it but he was still hard. And stuck. Motherfucking stuck with his dick in a tree and two fingers missing.

The tree jerked him off as he fought hard to pull out of it. He clawed at its bark with all his remaining fingers, but it was no use.

He couldn't get free, and the tree gave him no respite. It milked his dick for all it was worth in its rotten wooden hole and Roger came again, his cum flowing around the head of his dick in the moist socket he'd earlier thought it would be harmless fun to stick his dick into.

Ring finger missing now shit FUCK what the hell was happening.

A long thin branch was snaking up between his legs now.

It didn't hurt, but every time he came the fucking tree grew one more branch and he lost a finger.

The branch tickled his taint and he gulped apprehensively.

"GUUUUUYS!" he shouted as the tree started to pull him off a fourth time.

His screams turned inarticulate as the fucking tree made him lose his fucking mind with unwanted, horrible, fantastic, balls-deep deep-throating action, pressing on his taint at the same time.

Next thing he knew, his pinky had gone, and the branch between his legs had thickened and grown an extra shoot that slithered up between his ass cheeks.

He started to cry. The constant stimulation around his cock was growing unbearable. The hole in the wood was drenched with his cum now, and yet he was still coming. And he'd never come four times in a row like this, not even in his teens when he couldn't keep his hands off his dick and went through pairs of socks and tissues like, well, like tissue paper.

The branch on his ass tickled his asshole and the whole thing started over again.

He moaned and whined with the effort as he tried to pry himself free but his struggles only made him thrust into the tree harder when it snapped him back into its now drenching-wet maw.

He went off a fifth time and lost his thumb, but immediately felt where it had gone when he felt a new nub growing right through his asshole and into his rectum, until it pushed on his prostate.

The sweet spot worked like magic, damn it to hell. Roger mewled helplessly.

The tree sucked and fucked him simultaneously.

Before he could make some terrified guesses about what would happen to him next, he was coming again. His hand disappeared, and the tree branch shot up, spreading itself in the small of his back, bringing him closer to the tree.

"FUCKING WAKE UP AND COME HELP ME, GUYS!" he screamed.

The tree began fucking him once more.

Fuck me gently with a chainsaw, he thought. His forearm disappeared, and the branch he was sitting on now had about the same circumference as his missing limb, with its shoots around his balls and a thumb up his ass and a possessive palm around his buttcheek.

They would need a fucking chainsaw to cut him loose.

He cried pathetically now, banging his elbow and his intact fist against the trunk as the dead tree came to life when he came, its growing branches pressing into his back and hugging him against its trunk when the rest of his upper arm disappeared.

The tree had just begun fucking him, yet again, when he heard branches snapping in the woods behind him.

"What's going on?"

"HELP!"

Joey came stumbling along, holding a flashlight.

"Roger! What the hell?"

"Joey, get help. Hurry," Roger said, struggling to talk between gasps as the tree worked his dick and ass at the same time.

"How did you end up stuck like that?" Joey wasn't listening. Still half drunk, probably. He walked around the tree. "Where'd your arm go?"

"This fucking tree is eating me alive!" Roger shouted.

He raised his remaining middle finger to Joey, in the glare of the flashlight, before rolling his eyes back as another explosive orgasm hit him and he heard Joey say "woah, dude," and he knew, he _knew_ his finger would be gone.

And when Roger looked again, his finger was gone, but a new shoot had begun to sneak around his neck.

It would only be moments before the next orgasm took another limb from him.

"Joey, this is a fucking emergency, go back and wake up the others and come back with an ax before this fucking tree fucking kills me!"

"Okay, okay, hang in there," Joey said.

Roger heard him stumbling as he ran back toward camp, leaving Roger in the dark.

The tree kept fucking him. Its hole was so full of his cum that it was leaking down his thighs now, and the branch in his ass just kept growing bigger with every load.

His hips twerked helplessly between the living tree branch and the dead tree trunk, which was sucking the life out of him.

And sucking like an expert, blowing him like a real pro.

He didn't need to count the moments while Joey went to get help.

The tree counted his fingers down for him.

Now there was a branch covering his face, holding his mouth open and invading it.

He couldn't scream for help anymore.

The tree was gagging him, and it only let muffled gasps escape from Roger as it took the rest of his right arm.

The branch had grown thick, curling around Roger's body, pushing deeper into his ass. Roger's trunk cleaved to the dead bark of the reanimated tree as its burgeoning new trunk grew around him. His balls kept pumping, still releasing their seed with every orgasm, leaking into the tree an infusion of vital fluids.

He heard his friends' voices, their footsteps traipsing through the undergrowth, snapping dead branches, their curses as they stumbled around looking for him, Joey's excuses and pleas for the others to keep looking, that he could have sworn he'd come through this way when he'd talked to Roger minutes ago.

Roger couldn't call for help anymore. Couldn't guide them back to him.

He'd lost both arms, and felt his dick still spasming as his toes curled, then one by one began to vanish.

He saw the beams of his friends' flashlights shining over his shoulder, and looked down and glimpsed his foot disappearing as the tree consumed him.

When he lost the first leg, the growing tree was strong enough to support his weight.

He was beginning to lose the second leg when they found him.

It was hard to make out what they were saying, because the leaves around his face were plugging his ears, and the branch in his ass felt like it was about to burst through his stomach, and because he'd never felt such intense pleasure in his whole life, every sensation in what was left of his body running in a straight line from his dick inside the knot in the dead trunk, through his limbless torso slowly being encased, to the last remaining spark of consciousness amid the fast-growing branches crowning his head.

The tree was still fucking Roger when the first ax blow hit him.


End file.
